My baby

Well, turns out I didn't find the reindeer horns, but I am only too glad to post pictures of my baby. I couldn't tell you what breed he is even if I wanted to, but I can tell you that this is a dog that loves to snuggle, lick my face in the morning, and dig around in my bed as if there were hidden treasure.

Rocky was abandoned when he was four years old, and he still shows signs of insecurity. He'd walk a couple of steps, and turn back to make sure we're still there, worry written all over his face. We didn't train him to do this. We didn't train him to do anything, actually. For whatever reason, though, he knew that peeing in the room was bad, and that all his pooping should be done outside of the house.

Rocky eats would eat everything but fruit; once, when I tried to take away a hot dog bun that he'd found while on a walk, he swallowed it whole, and proceeded to cough what appeared to be his lungs out -- it scared me so much that I cried -- and I honestly thought that I was going to lose him then.

Rocky is all of 15 years. His senses have dulled; we have to point out to him the birds that are pecking food from his bowl before he perks up in realisation and chases after them, barking his head off. He feels silly about it afterwards. He now has hair coming out of his ears, where they didn't before. He also has a huge lump the size of his head (not visible in this photo) which tests have shown to be benign; it's still scary.

Rocky sleep-wags and sleep-runs, and despite my attempts to get him to watch Days of Our Lives with me, he falls asleep with uncanny haste each time. I haven't given up the hope of getting him to stay awake for one whole episode. ;)